Under Pressure
by Catlethea
Summary: Elizabeth Hummel was popular, beautiful, perfect; every teenager's dream. And she HATED it. Now, after a failed suicide attempt and 30 days in a psych ward, Elizabeth is trying to find her true self beneath the fake life she has lead for eight years.
1. A Beautiful Lie by 30 Seconds To Mars

Okay, Puck knows that Lizzie Hummel is a little different. According to Kurt, she's never really gotten over their mom's death, and she's kind of been trying to BE her. It's a little weird, and slightly creepy, but sweet at the same time. That's Lizzie for you; always everybody's favorite.

Anyway, Puck's not even sure that's true, about her being the surrogate mom in the Hummel house. That's what Finn told him, before they stopped being best friends. Now, he has no way of finding out more without talking to Kurt, and he's not about to go up and interrogate Kurt about the inner workings of his possibly messed-up sister.

So he's watching her.

Well, not really HER, just the things she's left behind since she stopped coming to school about three weeks ago. Mostly her locker, which has been unlocked, all her stuff taken out, and turned into something of a memorial, even though she's still alive. He guesses she's really sick or something, because only when you're that popular will people leave gifts for you if they hear you're under the weather; Get Well Soon cards, homework cheat sheets, low-fat candy, nice letters from every Cheerio and Sue Sylvester. . .

What? You didn't think he was going after some unknown chick at the bottom of the social food chain with her gayer-than-gay brother, did you? Elizabeth Hummel, more commonly known as Lizzie, is one of the most popular, attractive girls that goes to McKinley High. And, before she disappeared, she was trying to help save Glee Club, if only because there are some fellow popular kids in it. That must mean that she's a good person, and you know what? Puck's kind of sick of chasing girls who are A) not nice, or B) completely unreachable in some way.

Yeah, and did he mention that Lizzie is single?

No joke. She's single, never had a boyfriend before, far as Puck knows, and Puck knows a good bit. He knows she's been asked out by ninety-nine percent of the school's male population-with the exception of her brother, Finn, Artie, and himself-and he knows that she's turned them all down.

Well, that's about to change, people. When Lizzie Hummel gets back from wherever she is, she will BELONG to Puckzilla. He doesn't care if she isn't Jewish; he'd still date her if she were a Nazi Jew-hater, which is highly unlikely. Either way, that doesn't matter.

Lizzie Hummel WILL be Puck's.

And that's all there is to it.

Thing is, it takes exactly one month since the last day Puck saw her for Lizzie to return to school, and when she does, she isn't the Lizzie he knows; she and Kurt are surgically attached by their hands, which is weird, and she won't even LOOK at her Cheerios uniform, which is even fucking weirder. Who is this girl? Lizzie LOVES being in Cheerios. There has to be some kind of mistake.

And then, to top it all off, there are scars: Four parallel ones on either cheek, screwing up what was once perfect skin. She's wearing long sleeves-another oddity-so he can't be entirely sure, but he'd be willing to bet his Mohawk if it was still on his head that there's more where they came from on her arms. And, speaking of heads, hers is shaved. Bald. Completely hairless.

He knows one thing for certain about this mess: Her yearbook picture isn't going to be pretty.

He spends a good chunk of his day debating whether she's still worth going after. For Pete's sake, the girl looks like a total emo now, with her black skinny jeans and, of course, the cuts. And the lack of hairdo is certainly a questionable offense. Does Puckzilla even want to risk that kind of thing? Then he thinks about it some more. She's probably still the same nice girl, she's definitely still single, and the new developments might give her some kind of bad girl image, a different rep from Lovely Lizzie. Maybe now she's Emo Elizabeth or something. Plus, if she's depressed, she'll probably want to make out with him a lot. Puck's never made out with a bald chick before.

Oh, yeah. Puckzilla is definitely still interested. The question is, how to talk to her without her new hip accessory? He'll have to get her alone somehow. He needs to distract Kurt in some way. Maybe he could get Finn to. . . no. Finn would never go for that. Matter of fact, he'd probably pound Puck's face in for even suggesting it. Besides, they're not friends anymore, meaning he'd pound Puck's face in even harder for suggesting it. Um, HELL no.

Perhaps he could get Mercedes to create some drama to distract Kurt; they ARE best friends, after all. But. . . never mind, she doesn't like Puck ever since they broke up. Besides, she's got enough Lady Gaga going on to give April Rhoades' desire for liquor a run for the money.

By the end of two days, he has nothing. No plans, no allies, no anything except his manly charms to get Lovely Lizzie on his side, and he wonders if that even matters; she's depressed enough that she's barely looked at ANYONE today.

And. . . wait. She's depressed enough that she's crying in the band room all by herself. Hello. He stops and peers in, watching her sob at the piano bench for a minute or so, then gives Glee the finger and shuts the door behind him; they can wait. Lizzie Hummel needs Puckzilla more than Glee needs the band room just now.

As he sits down beside her, she lifts her head and looks straight ahead, pretending that she wasn't just crying her eyes out over the piano despite the fact her cheeks-and the piano keys-are still wet. He's just thinking what to say to her when she asks in a whisper, "Am I. . . Do you think I look disgusting?"

He frowns a little as she turns to face him, eyes red, then lets himself openly stare at her as he hasn't had a chance to for a month; that slender nose, those pouty lips, those lovely, clear blue eyes. "No," he says at last, "I think you look beautiful."

"Beautiful is a placeholder." Lizzie says so instantly that he knows it's been drilled into her somehow. "What do I really look like? Tell me the truth, since no one else will."

Puck hesitates; say what? "I. . . I don't know what you mean. What kind of thing are you asking for?"

"The truth." she insists, then sighs, "Preferably something that doesn't relate to beautiful or perfect. I've had that for too long, and I'm fucking sick of it, man!"

Puck bites his lip. "Is that why you cut your face?"

Lizzie rolls her sleeve up to her elbow and shows him a library of cuts going horizantally up her forearm; damn. "That's why I cut everything. The bathtub makes my brother cry now."

Puck swallows, trying to get a handle on the situation. "So. . . wait. You tried to kill yourself?"

"No, I tried to kill your mom." Lizzie mocks viciously; who is this girl? "Yes, I tried to kill myself. I've been in the hospital for the past month trying to get over it."

This can't be real, Puck thinks. Lizzie's nice. Nice and pretty and popular and smart and altogether too happy and lucky to even THINK about suicide, much less nearly get the job done. She has money, good looks, a sweet car, a sense of humor, nice clothes, gorgeous hair, Cheerios. . . Why try to kill yourself when you're perfect?

"Okay, maybe I'm dumb, but I don't get it, Lizzie. Why would you want to throw away everything you worked so hard to get?" Puck asks, looking at her like she's lost it, which she probably has.

"Do not call me Lizzie." she snaps in a voice that gives Puck chills. "Do. Not."

"Fine. Elizabeth, then. Why would you want to die when you're the best of us? Huh?" Puck growls, wondering if she'll lash out and punch him; she sure looks pissed enough.

But Elizabeth doesn't punch him. She doesn't scream or kick or have a nervous breakdown; she explains in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, "Because that was never me. Lizzie was like a costume, a fake-happy normal suit that I put on after my mom died. She was the perfect girl, and. . . she was what everyone else wanted and needed. I wasn't supposed to be her for so long. God, I hated her so much. It got so when I didn't need her anymore and it was time to go, she wouldn't go. I couldn't get rid of her. She was everywhere. I just wanted to be me again. So I cut her out of me."

Puck looks at her, in her weird black skinny jeans and long-sleeved purple shirt, with her bare scalp that was once bleached blond hair smoothed into a Cheerios ribbon, at the scars that make her different, and decides that this woman, right here? She's the one he wants for good. Not Mercedes, not Rachel, not Quinn, not even Santana. Only her for the rest of his fucking life.

"You look. . . You look like you, Ellie."

Puck doesn't know where the nickname comes from, but neither of them care; she looks surprised, then pleased, then comfortable in her new self. "Ellie," she says, tasting it. "Thank you."

Puck ducks his head, feeling nervous and shy for the first time he can remember in his entire life; Ellie is doing weird shit to him, but he loves it. God, he loves it! He asks, "Do you want to stay for Glee Club?"

"Yeah." 


	2. Sound Of Madness by Shinedown

Kurt can barely contain his shock; what in the name of Versace and Prada is Elizabeth, his sister Elizabeth, doing alone in the band room with the self-labeled Puckzilla? He stops in the doorway and wonders-if this is, in fact, the nightmare he believes it to be-when Puck will turn into the monster dinosaur he truly is and eat poor Elizabeth alive.

"Hi, Kurt." Elizabeth says with a small smile.

"Uh, hi." Kurt stammers; did Elizabeth just smile, for real? "I, uh, I thought you said you were going to call Dad to come pick you up."

Elizabeth nods, unconsciously moving her hand like she used to when she tucked hair behind her ear; now she pushes empty space. "I WAS going to do that, but Puckerman convinced me to stick around. Don't worry, I texted Dad, he'll probably be texting you in a minute, too."

"Excuse me?" Kurt says, before he can stop it, and by then it's too late. "Don't worry? How am I supposed to do that, Elizabeth, when you're on suicide watch?"

"Kurt." Mercedes gasps from behind him; Kurt plows right through.

"How am I supposed to not worry when you can't even be around shoelaces anymore?" Elizabeth unconsciously tucks her duct-taped sneakers under the piano bench, but she doesn't break her gaze. "How am I supposed to not worry when you just got out of the psych ward, Elizabeth? Just tell me that."

Elizabeth stands up, and, still looking Kurt directly in the eye, in surprisingly effortless Glee Club fashion, starts singing, just her and her strangely powerful voice, no instrumentals or backup. "Yeah, I get it, you're an outcast; always under attack, always coming in last, bringing up the past. No one owes you anything. I think you need a shotgun blast, a kick in the ass. So paranoid. Better watch your back!"

For the first time in his life, Kurt is pushed by Elizabeth, right square in the chest; as he reels from the shock, she steps back and continues, "Oh, my, here we go. Another loose cannon gone bipolar, slipped down, couldn't get much lower; quicksand's got no sense of humor, I'm still laughing like hell."

Angry at his sister like he's never been before, Kurt cuts her off, singing, "You think that by crying to me, looking so sorry, that I'm gonna believe you've been infected by a social disease? Well, then, take your medicine!"

Elizabeth throws up her arms and belts out in an almost-scream, "I created the sound of madness, wrote the book on pain; somehow I'm still here to explain that the darkest hour never comes in the night. You can sleep with a gun, when you gonna wake up and fight for yourself?"

"I'm so sick of this tombstone mentality; if there's an afterlife, it'll set you free. But I'm not gonna part the seas, you're a self-fulfilling prophecy. You think that by crying to me, looking so sorry, that I'm gonna believe you've been infected by a social disease? Well, then, take your medicine!" Kurt shoots back.

"I created the sound of madness, wrote the book on pain; somehow I'm still here to explain that the darkest hour never comes in the night. You can sleep with a gun, when you gonna wake up and fight for yourself?" Elizabeth goes quiet for a second, catching her breath, and Kurt notices Puck's guitar and Finn on the drumset in the background-when did they start playing?-then Elizabeth continues, "I created the sound of madness, wrote the book on pain; somehow I'm still here to explain that the darkest hour never comes in the night. You can sleep with a gun, when you gonna wake up and fight? I created the sound of madness, wrote the book on pain; somehow I'm still here to explain that the darkest hour never comes in the night. You can sleep with a gun, when you gonna wake up and fight for yourself?"

Kurt shakes his head and joins her in singing, "When you gonna wake up and fight for yourself? When you gonna wake up and fight for yourself? When you gonna wake up and fight for yourself?"

Then it is over. Kurt stares at Elizabeth, both of them out of breath, and holds out a hand. "Truce?"

Elizabeth smirks, shaking it. "Truce."

Mr. Schuester speaks up then, commenting, "Well, guys, that was pretty intense. Are you a friend of Kurt's?"

Kurt sees Elizabeth hesitate, then glance at Puck, and she says, "I'm Ellie Hummel, Kurt's sister, and I'd like to join Glee Club."

Kurt finds himself smiling as he watches "Ellie" being enfolded in the Glee Club; her old friends from Cheerios-namely Quinn and Brittany, not so much Santana; she's not the type-hugging her, Puck hovering behind her in a strangely possessive way, Rachel taking advantage of the opportunity to impart some kind of musical wisdom, Puck touching her shoulder, her turning from her introduction to Artie to smile at him, Puck smiling back, her letting Puck put his arm around her, Puck never looking away from her while she gets introduced to Jesse. . .

When does Puck get like that about Kurt's sister, anyway? And since when does she let guys put their arms around her? This isn't right. And it has something to do with Elizabeth's new nickname: Ellie. Yes, there's a novel between the lines of that one, and Kurt intends to figure out the plot and title as soon as he gets his sister alone. For now, he'll let her get away with being so mysterious and unlike herself, but later, there will be questions. And there WILL be answers to those questions. Kurt knows it.

Mr. Schuester calls the club to order, and Kurt takes his usual seat; Elizabeth sits one row down from him, next to Puck. The whole time Mr. Schuester is complimenting costumes and repeating the guidelines of this week's project for Elizabeth, she sits forward with rapt attention, nodding and smiling and asking people how they made their outfits, and Kurt leans back in his chair to watch Puck watching Elizabeth and touching her whenever it's casually possible and whispering in her ear.

A cold pit of anger and hatred forms in Kurt's gut. He hated Puck before, sure, but this is a whole different classification of I-want-to-kill-Noah-Puckerman. This is a murderous tendency in its purest form, the primary color foundation of every such emotion in the spectrum; fundamental hatred as a basic instinct. If Puck is going to touch and watch and whisper to Elizabeth like they're boyfriend-girlfriend, there will be a dead jock impaled on Kurt's Bedazzled stiletto by the end of the night.

"Can I do a Ke$ha song?"

What? Kurt is so busy fantasizing about killing Puck that he hasn't been paying attention to Elizabeth, and now she's looking hopefully at Mr. Schuester as she continues, "It is my impression that Ke$ha is very theatrical, if slightly inappropriate, but I have the perfect idea for a costume. Please?"

"Are you sure you don't want to do Lady Gaga?" Mr. Schuester asks. "You'll be on your own with Ke$ha, you know that, right?"

Elizabeth nods, splaying her long-fingered hands in her lap. "I know. I'm not big on Lady Gaga, personally, but I'm a big Ke$ha fan, and she has a great look, anyway. It'll be fun!"

Mr. Schuester smiles at her enthusiasm and concedes, "All right, you can do Ke$ha. Don't be afraid to ask the other kids to help you out, okay, Ellie?"

"Roger that." she responds, giving him a thumbs-up.

Kurt is faintly stunned; since when did she not like Lady Gaga? Just two months ago they had a Gaga dance party in Kurt's room! Then Kurt remembers; that was two months ago. Before Elizabeth shaved her head and stopped being a cheerleader. Before Elizabeth let part of her life go down the bathroom drain in swirls of blackish-red. Before Elizabeth spent a month in a psych ward. That's not her anymore, he reminds himself.

She's changed. 


	3. The Anthem by Good Charlotte

It's weird, Ellie thinks, being in the front seat when Finn's the huge one. She catches her father glancing at her out of the corner of his eye for the sixth time in five minutes and sighs; she's up here so Burt Hummel can keep an eye on her, make sure she's not gouging her eyes out with a mechanical pencil in the backseat or something. God.

"Dad, in case you think you're the king of stealth or something. . . you're not."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Burt coughs; Elizabeth sees Finn smirk in the rearview. At least someone thinks she's funny.

She folds her leg onto the seat with her and picks at the duct tape on her sneaker for something to do. It's too quiet. She misses her music. Ever since she got back, her dad and his new girlfriend have been afraid to play the radio in case some depressing song happens to come on and make her go nuts again; as if. Ellie is done with suicide. She never really wanted it, anyway, but she had to do it all to get rid of the girl that was once Lizzie. Now, she's just a shadow trailing behind her, and once she gets rid of all Lizzie's nonsense, she'll really be Ellie.

In the silence that has grown over the past minute or so, Ellie says, "So, um, Dad. I joined Glee Club."

"Yeah? That's good." Burt says, trying to be earnest.

"Yeah. And I'm not wearing pants for my first performance."

As Burt blanches, Kurt rushes to explain, "It's for the whole theatricality project. You know, the others in Glee are doing Lady Gaga, and Ellie here felt the need to channel Ke$ha, who, coincidentally, rarely wears pants."

Burt looks faintly green all the way home.

It comes as a bit of a shock, still, to see Carole in the kitchen. Once upon a time two months ago, that would have been Ellie doing dishes, cooking dinner for Kurt and Dad. Now, it's Carole's job-thank God-to cook for Dad, Kurt, Ellie, and Finn. But Ellie still comes in and picks up a plate next to the sink while the males of the household depart, which startles Carole. Ellie smiles reassuringly. "You wash, I'll dry?"

"Thank you, Elizabeth." Carole says earnestly, admitting in a whisper, "I still don't know where everything goes yet."

"Don't worry about it. There's enough secret hiding places in this house to hide every kid at our school. You get used to not knowing where stuff is." Ellie jokes.

Carole chuckles and together they stand and scrub the dishes clean for a while. Then, Carole says, "Elizabeth, I was wondering if we could have a little talk, just you and me."

Ellie nods, putting a plate away in the cabinet next to the fridge. "Sure. What about?"

"Well. . . About your suicide attempt." Ellie turns, and Carole shuts off the water, sitting down on one of the barstools; Ellie pulls one out beside her. Carole smiles nervously and says, "I don't really know how to approach this right, I'm afraid. I've never had this kind of talk with anyone before. Finn's never had any trouble as far as being happy, and. . . Well, I know your doctor said we shouldn't bring it up, but I just have to ask. Was it because you thought I was taking your mom's place, honey?"

"No!" Ellie exclaims. "Of course not. God, why would you think that?"

Carole swallows, looking a little upset. "It's just that. . . well, the timing. I mean, you. . . it happened right when we broke the news that we were seeing one another to you kids, and I know Finn took it kind of badly at first. I just thought maybe you still weren't ready to have your dad with a woman."

Ellie stares in shock as Carole wipes away a tear and feels her own throat close up; her voice cracks. "No, Carole, no. You wouldn't believe how grateful I am to have you around. Me and Kurt, we've never thought that we could have a mother again, and then, you came along and I thought I could finally, you know, relax and let go of feeling like that, but I just. . . I couldn't."

Ellie grabs Carole's hand and insists, "I never meant for it to go so far. It was the only thing I could think to let go of everything that built up over the years. It wasn't because I didn't want you to be like Mom; I wanted it so bad I freaked out. I want you to be here." Then Ellie laughs. "Plus, me and Kurt need someone to go shopping with now that neither of us has a car."

There, Ellie thinks, I said it. She's been meaning to tell Carole that for a while now, ever since she noticed how Finn, who she'd only known through Quinn and the Celibacy Club before, would come see her in the hospital, but Carole would wait in the car. They needed this.

"Okay," Carole smiles through the tears on her face. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

Ellie says, "Call me Ellie."

Carole nods, going back to the sink as she carefully cleans her cheeks. "Ellie. That's a good nickname for you. It fits."

Ellie joins her at the counter, asking, "You think so? Thought it was time for a new one."

"Oh, yeah? Did somebody give it to you?" Carole inquires, scrubbing at a tomato sauce stain. When Ellie nods but does not divulge further, Carole looks at her slyly. "Come on, who was it? Was it a boy?"

Ellie looks down, then recalls that she can't hide behind her curtain of fake blond hair anymore and admits, "Yes."

"Well, what's his name? Did he give you his number? Is he cute?" Carole demands, then, when Ellie still doesn't go on, Carole holds up her soapy dishrag. "Tell me, or I throw it."

"Do your worst!" Ellie retorts, letting out a squeal as soapy water hits her face; Carole was serious! Ellie snatches her own dishrag and dunks it in the water, then flings it in Carole's direction, trying to dash out of the way of Carole's projectile. Instead, she gets smacked right in the back of the head with it, and Carole quickly follows to wring it dry, making Ellie yelp hysterically, "Okay, okay, on second thought, DON'T do your worst. UNCLE! I give, I give! For God's sake, woman, I'll tell you anything you want to know!"

Fighting to keep a straight face, Carole steps back and says smugly, "That's what I thought. Tell me about this boy, Ellie."

Ellie gets to her feet, looking pointedly at the wet splotch on Carole's black shirt and the soap smeared all down her neck and shoulders, and the two of them start laughing. All boundaries knocked down, Ellie tells Carole, "It was, um, Noah Puckerman." Carole raises her eyebrows expectantly; Ellie tips her head to one side and slowly sighs, "And, yeah, I got his number."

"All right! Good for you." Carole encourages, then looks down at her shirt. "I guess I better go change before dinner, huh? You go wash up. I'll call you guys when it's done."

"Okay. Thanks, Carole." Ellie replies, heading down the hall to her room. Just as she is about to go inside, she sees Finn come out of his shared room with Kurt and calls, "Hey, Finn."

Finn stops and turns to her. "Hey. What's up?"

Ellie smirks and, just because she can, tips her head back to look at the ceiling, and meets Finn's eyes again. "The ceiling, I'd say. How are things going with you and Kurt down there?"

"Okay. I mean, a little awkward, but. . ." Finn shrugs. "Anyway, he actually just sent me up to find you. Something about your costume. I'm going to go get a soda."

"Oh. Thanks, Finn." Ellie says cheerfully and turns away from her bedroom door to her brother's. Finn stops her and murmurs, "You do know you have stuff on your. . . on your head, right?"

Ellie laughs and teases, "No, Finn, I definitely do not feel soapy water dripping down my spinal cord. I'll let Kurt fix it; just because I have no hair doesn't mean he won't want to play with it."

"I heard that." Kurt calls from behind the door. "Just hurry it up, Elizabeth, so I can see the damage."

Ellie and Finn share an eyeroll, then she tromps down the stairs to Kurt's basement bedroom, where the couch is covered in bright, glittering fabrics and Kurt sits at his vanity, hands clasped around his knee. He smiles faintly as she enters the room, then gets right down to business: "Dear God, what happened to you? Go dunk your head in the sink, okay? And use the shampoo in the shower rack, it makes your hair grow faster."

"Yes, ma'am." Ellie teases, switching on the water. "So, what do you want to talk about, Kurt?"

"Your costume, of course. What were you thinking, exactly?" Kurt inquires as Ellie sticks her head under the faucet. For a second, she relaxes into the feeling of water rushing over her scalp, then she explains, "I was thinking basically straight Ke$ha, only school-appropriate; I don't want to stay home for another month because I broke the dress code. You know, tight, ripped jeans, lots of glitter and gold, plenty of skin. . . the works."

"Are you doing her makeup, too?"

"No, Kurt. Of course not." Ellie drawls sarcastically, then gives her brother a smile over her shoulder. "I wouldn't deny you the opportunity for all the money in the world. Silly brother."

Kurt claps excitedly, then continues avidly, "What about your hair?"

"Cheapo blond wig and a shitload of hairstyling products." Ellie says shortly, squirting shampoo into her hands. "And yes, that is your job. I trust you to make me amazing, Kurt."

Kurt says, a bit breathless with excitement, "That's completely stupid, Elizabeth, you're already amazing. I got the best end of this deal ever!"

"Happy to be of assistance." Ellie chuckles, scrubbing her scalp-which feels weird to her without hair-clean with Kurt's shampoo; it smells sharp, like herbs. "What's this smell?"

"It's parsley. Smells good, doesn't it?" Kurt prods.

Ellie nods and asks, "Yeah, can you give me some of this? All my bath products are bubblegum. I almost want to barf when I smell them now. That's why I stole your deodorant the other day, just so you know."

"Yeah, of course!" Kurt agrees, hopping up to hunt down a spare bottle. Ellie smiles to herself; she loves her brother. He's just so wild, and he was always Kurt. He knew who he was all along. When she brings her head up from the sink, she examines her scars and her baldness in the mirror, wondering why this was what it took for her to wake up and become Ellie. Was it what she told Puck without thinking today; that she cut Lizzie out of her? Or was it because this is how Ellie should be? She doesn't know, and she knows she probably won't find out, but she's just happy that she's almost Ellie now, because being Ellie is better than being Lizzie or being Elizabeth put together. And, she thinks, this is who she's meant to be.

Ellie begins to towel herself dry, then she remembers Puck's number in her pocket; should she call him? Would he be eating dinner now? It's only six o'clock. She'll text him, she decides, then sits down in Kurt's vacant chair and pulls out her cell phone. 


	4. My Way Or The Highway by Relient K

Finn lies on Kurt's couch, tossing his beat-up football in the air and catching it, over and over, while Kurt and his sister talk fashion in low voices. It's a little weird, being the only real guy in the room, but at least Kurt's not watching him or anything; that kind of freaks Finn out, when Kurt's eyes follow him all over the place.

"Ellie!" Speak of the devil. "I can't do your measurements if you keep answering text messages. Who are you talking to, anyway?"

"Sorry, Kurt." Ellie mumbles, and Finn hears her push a few more buttons, then something clinks down on the vanity. Her phone. "I was just talking to Tina, okay? She wanted to know if I was going all gangster on everybody."

"Are you?" Finn asks, squeezing the football between his hands.

"Nope. Regular Ke$ha is a better persona for the song I'm singing." Ellie explains. Finn doesn't really know what she means, but he guesses it means she's not going to have all the bling.

"What song are you doing?" Finn continues, just to keep up some kind of conversation that includes him; he's tired of tossing the football.

Ellie snorts, "I'm not telling you. It's a surprise, right? Between me and the band kids."

"Okay." Finn concedes, a little disappointed; he wants to know what Ellie's going to sing. He feels like he barely knows her, and maybe if she told him that, they'd be more friendly, or something. Everyone in Glee connects through music; why not them?

Then Kurt says, "Hey, guys. Name the first song that pops into your head. Go!"

" 'I Hope You Dance' by LeeAnn Womack, dammit." Ellie sighs grudgingly.

Finn thinks, then admits, " 'Carry On, My Wayward Son'. That's by Kansas, right?"

" 'I Want To Hold Your Hand'. The Beatles." Kurt finishes, and Finn sinks down further into the couch.

Ellie, possibly sensing the tension that is so thick Finn could slice it up and eat it between two slices of rye with ketchup and mozzerella cheese, suggests, "Do you guys want to play the Question Game?"

"What's the Question Game?" Finn asks stupidly; does she mean Twenty Questions? Because he's not going there. He SUCKS at Twenty Questions.

"It's just a game of asking questions. Let's say I ask Kurt a question; he doesn't have to answer it, but he has to finish with a question, no matter what. You understand?"

Finn sticks a thumbs-up over the couch, and Kurt says, "Affirmative."

"Okay," Ellie says. "Finn, are you bored?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"What's your question?"

Finn mentally smacks his forehead; duh. "Uh. . . Are YOU bored?"

"No. Have either of you talked to Puck lately?"

Kurt asks in a chilly tone, "Why?"

"Because he's being a total flirt. Is that normal?"

Finn snorts, "For Puck? Are you kidding me?"

"Don't think so. Where have I been for the past month?"

"Oh. . . right. Didn't you know him before?"

"Only by sight. . . Is he a jerk?"

Kurt says instantly, "Do you breathe oxygen?"

"Point taken. Can he be nice? Like, ever?"

"Occasionally, but only when the mood strikes him. Why do you want to know about Puck?"

"Why does it bother you so much?"

Kurt slams something down on the table and almost shouts, "He threw me in a Dumpster!" Finn doesn't dare move; Ellie is silent. "And now he's obviously trying to 'get with you'-" The quotes are only completely, painfully obvious in Kurt's tone. "-like he did with Mercedes, and I don't want him within a two-mile radius of you, Elizabeth." A brief moment of quiet again; Kurt tries to catch his breath. "Are you interested in him?"

It takes a moment for Ellie to respond; Finn holds his breath, wondering if Puck has stolen yet another girl's innocent heart. ". . . As a friend. He was honest with me, and he listened through my ranting. Not many people will do that." She clears her throat. "Finn, are you still alive over there?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"Should I call nine-one-one?"

"No, but thanks for the offer. So. . . Are you decent?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because I've got a crick in my neck. I'm sitting up, okay?"

Finn pulls himself into a sitting position; Ellie stands in front Kurt's vanity in faded, almost completely shredded blue jeans that look almost painted on, they are so tight, and a green tank top. Her outstretched arms are completely bare and pale-looking, striped with slash marks; that must be why Kurt's so tense, at least in part. He's running a tape measure right over where she cut herself, and he WAS the one who found her, after all. Ellie self-consciously chews her lip, then turns her bald head and asks, "Kurt, can I move?"

"Yes, you may. I'm finished measuring." She gets up and cautiously stretches; Finn hears a loud crack, and she sighs luxuriously. Kurt snickers, "What was that?"

"My back. Was it that loud?" Ellie asks, looking slightly embarrassed.

Finn laughs, "Yeah, it was. I think they heard it in China. Are we still playing the Question Game?"

"What do you think?" Ellie says severely, then laughs, "No, we can stop now. I mean, unless you guys want to keep going."

Kurt shrugs, looking a lot more relaxed than Finn has seen him in a long time. "I actually found it quite enjoyable. Where did you learn that? Cheer camp?"

"Hell, no!" Ellie sputters. "At cheer camp we spent time exchanging diets that don't work and colors of nail polish, Kurt. It's a very shallow place. The Question Game, I learned in the psych ward. You met Andre, didn't you?" Kurt nods; who? "He's the one who taught it to me. We could play it all day long."

"Oh. Have you talked to him since you got out?" Kurt inquires, trying to appear natural as he digs through a box of fabrics, but Finn can see how much effort it's taking.

"Yeah, I texted him this morning. He's back home, too, got out the week before I did. Apparently, everybody's totally jazzed to have him back." Ellie says cheerfully, then sighs. "Kurt, come on. You don't have to put on any kind of face for me. If it upsets you for me to talk about the ward, I'll shut up. I don't read minds."

Kurt shakes his head and tells her, "It doesn't upset me, Ellie, I just. . . It makes me worry about you. You talk about it like it's the best place you've ever been, and that makes me scared you want to go back."

"Oh, Kurt." Ellie breathes, her expression very nearly heartbroken as she looks at her brother. "No. . . just no. I don't want to go back."

Tears hover on Kurt's eyelashes, and he is staring hard into the mirror, trying to regain his composure. Ellie goes to him and puts her scarred arms around him; Kurt lets out the first, quiet sob. Finn can't watch anymore. He just can't take this drama. He picks up his jacket and leaves the room without another word, but just as he shuts the door, he can hear Kurt break down.

Finn hesitates in the hall, feeling a sharp, stabbing pain for this family; for Burt, who's been alone for eight years; for Kurt, who has to deal with everyone's shit every single day; for Ellie, who nearly ended her own life; for his mother; who's been slowly wasting away due to a broken heart almost too mangled to fix; and for him, Finn, who has to watch them all suffer and be unable to do anything about it.

They're all screwed up.

Finn shakes his head and runs for the door; he can't stay here. He's suffocating. He needs to go home, even if it's just to see it from the outside, because it's all he has left that doesn't make him feel useless and empty. He takes a look at the moon-full, the sign of lunatics-and starts going. 


End file.
